A Series of Cosmic Misunderstandings
by Live4today
Summary: A Douglas Adamsesque story about a very twisted universe that closely resembles our own, featurning many bizarre and memorable characters.
1. Eddie

Eddie was a fairly ordinary Earthman, who led an altogether unremarkable life on the largely unknown planet Earth. He was an out of shape twenty-nine year old man, who stood about five feet and ten inches tall and weighed about one hundred and seventy-seven pounds. As mentioned previously, his life had been fairly unexceptional. He grew up in a small city, attended university, graduated, and moved to a large metropolitan area, where he hoped that by some miracle someday he'd make a name for himself. I won't keep you in suspense; he never accomplished that goal, unless you count the time he tried getting his friends to call him "Captain Mick" because of his propensity for ingesting shots of spiced rum of the same name. Much to Eddie's dismay, the nickname never stuck. Instead they took to calling him Captain Moron because they felt it suited him better.

After graduation Eddie had gotten a job working for Singular Laboratories, a company that stood on the cutting-edge of clinical research. He was thrilled at the possibilities the company seemed to offer. He imagined an exciting career as a research specialist, furthering the knowledge and well-being of mankind while making enough money to live more than comfortably. As an added bonus he could really stick it to all those bastards who'd always told him that he'd never amount to anything.

The reality of the situation fell far short of this idealized picture he'd painted in his head. In actuality he was working as a paper-pusher in a department that was tucked away deep within the bowels of the large facility and was not allowed near the areas where any of the actual research took place. To make matters worse, he had to work with a pushy condescending bitch who was 75 pounds overweight and $25 grand overpaid. She despised her life so much that she needed to channel all that hatred into belittling and humiliating Eddie, who believed that she had single-handedly put the "cow" in coworker. Ironically the harlot's name was Serena. Apparently her hippy parents thought that by giving her a name that implies calm and peace, she would grow up to be a calm and peaceful woman. They were dead wrong.

Serena was a proud alum of Bitch University, where she double-majored in Bitchology, and Sadism with a minor in Beratement. She graduated at the top of her class with honors. Hanging above her desk was her diploma, and next to it a photo of a 2 year old child, which one can only hope was the child of some distant relative, and not her own. If the child was actually hers, one could only hope that it was now dead, for its own benefit as well as the benefit of mankind as a whole, which would be far better off without those bitchy chromosomes continuing to pollute the gene pool in future generations.

Serena had a commute of one hour each way, which meant that in the morning she got to spend an hour in her car thinking of new ways to make Eddie's life a living hell, and an hour every afternoon being satisfied with what a great job she'd done at being such a heinous bitch. Not to mention the 8 hours she spent at work, where if she'd channeled all her potential into her job instead of spending most of her energy on being a miserable cunt, she would have exerted enough productivity to run the entire company single-handedly and still have time for coffee breaks.

Eddie's morning commute was 15 minutes, which was barely long enough to include a crying fit and enough time to then dry his tears and regain his composure before working his ass off for 8 hours for which he would be compensated with barely adequate wages that allowed him to live hand-to-mouth in an apartment that was barely up to code. His afternoon commute was between 45 minutes and an hour in bumper to bumper traffic that dragged like the tail of a slug on valium. It seemed that the cruel hand of fate was determined to further his suffering by keeping him away from the safety of his home and his sanity for as long as possible every afternoon. Fortunately he had a large collection of music to listen to in the car to take the edge off his boredom. Unfortunately the car radio stopped working a week into his job. He was currently saving up for a new stereo and would be able to afford it in about eighteen and a half months, but only if he subsisted on a diet of nothing but ramen noodles and if Singular Labs gave him that pay raise they promised he'd get next spring. To be frank, the plan was not that much of an inconvenience to Eddie anyway, considering that ramen noodles was the only entree he knew how to prepare.

Chow Kyun, his boss seemed blissfully unaware of all the harassment that took place under her watch. Instead of trying to heighten morale and efficiency in her department she was content to sit at her desk all day, chatting on the phone with her family and friends in a high-pitched infantile voice that was notoriously despised by those forced to work within earshot of her, but most cats and seven month old babies found very appealing and relatable. She somehow reasoned that everyone in the office would find it adorable when she spoke in the child-like pitch that made Eddie want to gouge out his eardrums with a rusty nail. That voice was enough to single-handedly eradicate professionalism from the whole of Singular Laboratories forever. Eddie found nothing more annoying than having to answer to someone in a position of authority who spoke in such a juvenile manner. And to make matters worse, when she really wanted to drive home what she thought was an important point, she would childishly stomp one foot on the floor at the end of a sentence, as if placing an invisible punctuation mark on the floor. Eddie couldn't help but marvel at the fact that Chow Kyun was happily married, forcing him to wonder what strange sociopathic pedophile of a man would marry someone who behaved more like a two year old than a full-grown adult woman. He was also forced to call into question the sanity of the human resources coordinator who decided that it would be a good idea to hire her. Considering the tough economic times the country was facing he found it difficult to believe that there was not a single applicant more qualified for the position than the train wreck of a woman he was now forced to answer to.

What irritated Eddie most about his job was the knowledge that he had so much more talent than all these idiots that he was forced to work with at the bottom of the totem pole. But he was not allowed to actualize the potential that so fervently pumped through his veins, and so every night he had to fill his circulatory system instead with alcohol in order to numb the pain.

One thing Eddie always yearned for in life, aside from occupational success, which now seemed like a pipe dream, was falling hopelessly in love with the woman of his dreams and spending the rest of his life with her. Sadly, the closest he had ever come to a romantic encounter was one time on the city bus when he discovered a gorgeous woman staring at him. At first he thought he was hallucinating, but then realized that she actually was staring at him, and even smiling, perhaps a little flirtatiously he decided.

Finally, after several minutes of awkwardly catching her eye, then looking away shyly, and then making eye contact again, he mustered the courage to go over and talk to her, which was in and of itself an amazing feat considering how much of a coward he was. But this just felt like fate and he knew he couldn't let it pass him by or he might regret it for the rest of his life. In the end, after an embarrassing exchange it became apparent that she had a lazy eye, which mistakenly found its way over towards his general direction, and the smile she had on her lips was actually intended for the man seated across from her, upon whom her good eye was focused. Upon realizing all this, embarrassment flooded over him and his face immediately turned a color about 6 shades darker than crimson. Feeling an immediate and suffocating need to remove himself from this mortification he disembarked at the next stop and was forced to walk the remaining two and a half miles back to his apartment in 94 degree heat while carrying four bags of groceries. Fortunately the bags were relatively light considering they contained mostly packets of ramen noodles.

Eddie spent much of his spare time in the evenings watching television, getting pissed off because his cable service got cut off, ineffectually smacking the side of the television unit, spending a half hour digging through his pile of unpaid bills to find the appropriate customer service number, calling up the cable service, waiting on the line for a quarter of an hour for an available customer service representative, getting frustrated and slamming the phone down, and finally going down to the bar for a drink and a game of pool, which he always lost at because he couldn't seem to get the balls to go where he wanted them to (i.e. into the pockets).

Eddie's favorite bar was Blake's Tavern, a small, dingy dive bar, where the drinks were inexpensive, low-quality, and high in alcohol content, much like the women who patronized the establishment. Eddie enjoyed Blake's Tavern for one reason only: a portion of the neon sign out front was burnt out and had been for as long as he could remember, and at night it read "Bla Tavern", which was a more fitting name for it anyway. Eddie loved to call up Billy, his drinking buddy, and shout into the phone "Hey buddy, let's go to 'Bla Tavern'!" followed by a chuckle of self-satisfaction.

Billy would groan and remark that the joke wasn't funny and hadn't been since Eddie had started saying it a year and a half ago.

Eddie would apologize reluctantly, unable to understand why no one else could find humor in what he thought were clever observations and plays on words. For the next four to five hours he would drink himself into a stupor at Blake's Tavern, numbing all the pain he had accumulated throughout the day and then stumble home, making several stops along the way to empty the contents of his stomach and bladder into the hedges and driveways of local homes.

This pattern defined most of Eddie's dull and wasted life until one evening. After a long an almost unbearable workday followed by an excruciating commute, he made his usual call to Billy, inviting him out for an evening of inebriation and the inevitable humiliation that accompanied it. On this occasion, however, Billy relayed some startling news. "Dude, Blake's Tavern's closed" he reported grimly.

"What? This can't be happening." Eddie felt his life crumbling before his very eyes, much like an old and poorly constructed, termite infested structure that wouldn't be missed by anyone.

"I'm afraid so, buddy" Billy's voice was heavy with defeat.

"So what do we do now?" he tried not to sound panicked, though that was how he immediately felt.

"Don't worry. I got another place. This guy I know from work goes to this place called the Brick House. It's only a few blocks north of Heckfield Park."

"Thank God." Eddie sighed, relieved to know there was another place he could go to kill the brain cells that were responsible for the self-hatred he felt.

"I'll meet you there in a half hour" commanded Billy and hung up the phone.

So many questions flooded Eddie's mind at that moment: _Would the drinks be as cheap? Is there a pool table there? Are there gonna be a lot of people there, because I hate large crowds. Oh God, and I bet there's gonna be hip-hop music playing. I hate that stuff. It's just a bunch of noise. I know it's not gonna be anything like Bla Tavern… Bla Tavern... he he he_.

Eddie downed a few shots of rum for the road and hurried out the door, determined to get to the bar as quickly as possible, which meant cutting through Heckfield Park, which didn't bother him, even though it was dark outside and the park was notorious for the number of muggings that took place there. He reasoned that it didn't really matter if he got mugged because he didn't have anything valuable for anyone to take, with the possible exception of his life, which hadn't been appraised lately, though it couldn't have been worth much these days either.

As luck would have it, most of the lampposts in the park were burnt out, probably because tax dollars were being wasted on expensive prisons to house criminals instead of paying for public lighting, which would protect people from being ambushed from said criminals in the first place.

One particularly nasty and selfish lawmaker, who held large amounts of stock in the prison industry once made an off-the-record comment explaining his highly enlightened viewpoint on the situation: "Any idiot who walks alone at night without a gun deserves to be robbed and killed." Ironically, he was mugged and beaten within an inch of his life a week after making that remark. Following the beating, he lie unconscious for three hours, during which he went unnoticed by over two dozen passersby due to inadequate public lighting. Eventually he regained consciousness and managed to crawl a quarter mile to a well-lit area in the park, where he was finally discovered by another would-be mugger, who in a moment of generosity phoned an ambulance. The paramedics did what they could, but given the fact that he hadn't been rescued sooner, could not save the use of his legs, and so he had to spend the remainder of his life in a wheelchair. Fortunately the remainder of his life was cut short when he was robbed and killed several months later.

Eddie just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time (or right place, depending on how you look at it. I'll let you decide for yourself). He'd spent the last ten minutes strolling through the park, when suddenly he heard a sound behind a nearby hedge. Stupidly, he decided it would be a good idea to find out what was making that strange struggling and gasping sound, and who it was that was whispering "Shut the fuck up or I swear to God I'll slit your fucking throat."

To Eddie's surprise he discovered a man in a suit being held down at knifepoint by another man dressed all in black. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he noticed an intricately stitched crest on the sleeve of the victim's suit, but the poor lighting made it difficult to get a good view of it. Also, he could have sworn the man's suit was purple, but again, the poor lighting.

Suddenly he remembered a story he'd overheard at work during a rare moment when Serena was not screaming at him. The story was about some rich old bureaucrat who had been mugged twice and killed. He didn't know why, but for some reason the story made him realize that what he was now witnessing might very well be another mugging. Not wanting to have anything to do with it, he very quickly made his way into the nearby woods, which he assumed would be safer than standing out in plain view of any muggers who might be hiding in the woods waiting for passers-by to ambush.

He was wrong. The woods were not safer.

He continued on until he came to a small clearing. As he approached, a column of orange light roughly the size of a coffin, but cylindrical in shape appeared mysteriously before him.

_I wonder what the hell that is _he mused, and without a moment's hesitation stepped into it.


	2. Transportation

He definitely felt a little disoriented; there was no doubt about that. When he finally got the gumption to open his eyes, which he eventually realized he had closed to shield his retinas from the glaring light, he found himself in a tiny unfurnished room, about as comfortable and welcoming as a padded cell, but without the added bonus of a small cupful of colorful pills given to him by a sassy overweight nurse to help cope with the situation. Boy, what he wouldn't have given for a nice cupful of colorful pills right then.

Unfortunately Eddie knew what a padded cell was like because at the age of 14 he had suffered from what his psychiatrist referred to as a psychotic break. Eddie preferred to think of it as his midlife crisis. It seemed a perfectly logical label because it had the hallmarks of a midlife crisis: emotional turmoil accompanied by an overwhelming desire for change.

"One thing you fail to take into account" remarked his psychologist in a condescending tone that was characteristic of someone who enjoyed his career only because it allowed him to talk down to people "is that midlife crises only occur when one is of middle age." He finished the statement with a smirk that seemed to say "Ha-ha! Whatcha gonna say now, you stupid little pipsqueak? I'm a trained psychologist who attended 9 years of schooling accumulating a wealth of knowledge which I can use to come up with a cocky answer to anything you might have to say!"

"I am of middle age" argued Eddie "I don't want to live past 30."

At the time it had seemed perfectly reasonable to Eddie. He never found appeal in the idea of becoming a responsible adult and eking out an existence in a miserable career the way his parents did. If they had taught him anything in life it was that he didn't want to grow up and work a dead end job because he had to raise a child that he never wanted and whom he would resent for having stolen his youth and leeched away his hard earned wages through grocery bills and medical costs. His parents had made these points perfectly clear all the while he was growing up, not through words, but through good old fashioned passive aggression.

Of course, now Eddie was living the life that epitomized everything he had feared as a child. Well, everything apart from the raising a child part. He was pretty sure he'd never have children in part because his pitiful wages were hardly enough to support himself, let alone a child, and because he could barely get a woman to go out on a date with him, which meant very little chance that he'd ever get one pregnant.

There was always the option of passing down his genes by making a donation to a sperm bank, which would eliminate the unpleasantness of having to raise the child himself. It was an option he considered until he actually went to a sperm bank and spoke to the receptionist, who after taking one look at him broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, asking between guffaws, "_You_ want to be a donor?" To spare himself any further embarrassment Eddie fled the scene immediately and hoped never to see the receptionist again. Much to his dismay she ended up later getting a job as a temp at Singular Labs, where word of the embarrassing incident spread like wildfire and Eddie had to endure being a laughingstock in addition to the torment he faced daily from Serena, who had a field day with the fascinating new tidbit about Eddie's fertile aspirations.

Getting back to the point, the room in which Eddie suddenly found himself was completely bare with walls that perhaps were once white, but it must have been many years ago. Now they were a disturbingly dingy off-off-off-white, except for the corners of the room, which faded to black, either from dust buildup, mold, or some lovely combination of both. The door to the room was a similar shade of what once may have resembled white and at about face level had a window that seemed like it should have been transparent, but now was cloudy and scratched and impossible to see through. One notable characteristic was that it had no knob or handle or any visible apparatus for opening it, which Eddie took terrified note of.

Hesitantly he approached the door, and it very slowly began to automatically retract into the wall with a high pitched grating sound of metal against metal accompanied by a loud squeal, which seemed to indicate that it hadn't been oiled in many years, and no one cared enough to do anything about it.

As it made its irritatingly slow retreat into the wall, the door revealed a room that was somewhat larger and only slightly more inviting. The first thing Eddie noticed was the enormous flat-screened television hanging from the wall directly across from him. It seemed remarkably out of place among the aged and filthy furniture that took up what little space was available in the sad room, and what shone on the screen was also puzzling. It appeared to be a screensaver – you know which one I'm talking about – the one that makes it look like you're flying through space. The only differences with this one were that the stars were moving sideways instead of coming directly toward the screen and they were moving much more slowly than they usually do on a screensaver. A soiled olive colored sofa sat against one wall, and opposite it stood a rickety shelving unit containing several rows of books, the titles of which could only be discovered with the aid of an archaeologist's tool set to remove the dust and grime from the spines. In the middle of the room stood a badly scratched wooden coffee table from which most of the finish had worn off. Two other doors led out of the room and on each door were strange characters that resembled some sort of hieroglyphics that Eddie found completely unrecognizable.

Uncertain of what to do next, Eddie moved gingerly toward the door to his right, and it too began to retract into the wall accompanied by the same irritating noises as the previous door. What lie beyond this door was a room even stranger and at least fifty – no, make that sixty-five times more mind-boggling and unexpected than the room in which he was presently standing inside of.

Before I go on to describe to you what he found in that unusual room I must warn you that the room itself was in fact not terribly unusual, nor were its contents, so there's no need to get all worked up and anxious. They only seemed unusual to Eddie, so just calm down and keep reading. I also must inform you that one of the assumptions Eddie made about the second room was false, and he was about to make the same assumption about this room. What that assumption was and why it was false are points that I will address later, but for now I feel obliged to describe to you the third room.

The third room was also small, though not as small as the first. To Eddie's total amazement he discovered another flat screen monitor on the wall opposite him, though this one was so large that it took up the entire wall. It had the same screensaver running on it, but with the stars coming directly toward the screen instead of sideways. These stars were also moving uncharacteristically slowly for a screensaver. Just below the screen was what appeared to be a large control panel of some sort, complete with flashing buttons and panels, though there were quite a few areas where buttons seemed to be missing or burnt out, and there were many loose wires hanging from broken panels, giving it a sort of jury-rigged feel.

Perhaps the second most surprising feature to the room (the first of course having been the large flat screen monitor) was the robot seated in front of the control panel. It was vaguely human shaped, with a cylindrical head, a barrel shaped body, two arms and three legs. The robot, like the control panel it sat before, appeared to be in a state of disrepair. There were several sizeable dents about its head and body, along with many patches of rust.

Unsure of how to react to all of this, Eddie stood gaping.

The automaton's head slowly turned 180 degrees to face him, making a noise similar to the squeaking of the doors, but slightly less irritating. With its head turned around it eerily resembled a victim of demonic possession, though as far as Eddie knew demons only possessed living things and not robots. He didn't actually believe in demons, but this suddenly came into question because until now he hadn't thought that robots really existed either. Realizing his total lack of knowledge regarding both demons and robots, he reasoned that whatever was going on here was far beyond his comprehension, and so the best course of action would be to just play it cool and pretend as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

The robot, in a voice that sounded rustier than the body it issued from, yet somehow carried an unnaturally congenial tone said "Hello Earth Ambassador Raymond and welcome aboard Intragalaxi Taxi. My name is Zed 937 Beta and I am your driver. Do not hesitate to notify me if you need anything. Please enjoy your ride."

Eddie responded to this greeting with the most intelligent question that came to mind at the moment: "What?"

"I said" said the robot twice as loudly this time "Hello Earth Ambassador Raymond and welcome aboard Intragalaxi Taxi. My name is Zed 937 Beta and I am your driver. Do not hesitate to notify me if you need anything. Please enjoy your ride."

Not expecting the sudden increase in volume, Eddie jumped several inches in the air and then settled again. In an unsteady voice he said "I'm sorry. I heard you the first time. I-I-I just don't quite know what's going on."

_Way to play it cool Eddie, try to relax and try to ask a question without sounding like a pathetic mess, _He thought to himself.

"I'm so confused right now. You see, I was just walking through the park-"

"Please spare me your stories" interrupted Zed 937 Beta, its tone switching abruptly from congenial to snappish "I was just trying to be polite. I don't actually care if you're confused or scared or hard of hearing. I'm just here to get you to your destination. I wasn't programmed for small talk and I certainly have no intention of engaging in it." The rust in its voice inadvertently increased the sarcasm of the statement by a factor of 2.5.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know where I am or what you're talking about. And my name isn't Ambassador Raymond" Eddie whined.

"Your apology is unnecessary, and frankly, a little annoying" replied the robot, its tone increasing in harshness. Suddenly its voice returned to the polite and contrived tone it had begun at "Now please return to the lounge and enjoy a selection from our library, or relax on the sofa and enjoy the fine view from the port-side window."

"Window?" Eddie asked no one in particular as he finally realized the flat screen monitors were not monitors at all, but windows. "Are-are we in outer space?"

After what it judged to be a sufficiently awkward pause Zed 937 Beta answered mockingly "See, you're not so confused after all," then continued in its most courteous intonation "Now please return to the lounge and enjoy a selection from our library, or relax on the sofa and enjoy the fine view from the port-side window."

At this point Eddie officially began to freak out. Why he hadn't done so sooner, he couldn't be certain, but now seemed like as appropriate a time as any.

Noticing immediately that the man before him (or behind him, depending on whether you judge the position based on its relativity to the front of one's body or one's head) was beginning to freak out, the robot stood up from its seated position, turned its body around so that it faced in the same direction as its head, and placed a cold, rusty hand on the Earthman's arm. Next it firmly pulled Eddie along with it as it proceeded to the dingy room, which it had previously and perhaps inappropriately referred to as the lounge, whereupon it disengaged his arm and continued on towards the only door Eddie had not passed through. The door opened just as noisily as the other two doors had, and from the room issued a continuous high-pitched whistling sound as well as an intermittent grinding. The room's contents were not visible to Eddie, as there seemed to be absolutely no lighting from within. The door closed behind the robot as it disappeared for what seemed to Eddie like sixty-five hours, though it was probably only about forty-five seconds.

When it emerged, Zed 937 Beta carried a tarnished silver tray with a biscuit and a steaming hot cup of dark brown liquid. "Perhaps you would care for a refreshment to help you relax," it suggested politely.

"No thanks" said Eddie as politely as he could "I'm really not hungry right-"

"Perhaps you would enjoy a biscuit" interrupted the robot in a disturbingly pleasant voice.

"Umm, okay," Eddie was stupefied, and picked up the biscuit, then cautiously took a bite of it. The taste was chalky and bland, which was a relief considering he had expected much worse.

Suddenly he blacked out.


	3. Introductions

Eddie slowly drifted back into consciousness, though his senses took a bit longer to catch up with the rest of him. His body felt numb all over and his vision was blurry, though he could swear he saw a thin purple and blue, vaguely human-shaped figure standing directly in front of him. From his position on what he assumed was the floor he could not get a good sense of the figure's height. What he could get a sense of was that the creature was screeching very loudly and making a lot of nonsensical babbling noises and appeared to be swinging its arms around a lot in the direction of another figure. The other figure, a grayish humanoid, was making similar noises back at the purple and blue shape, but with a rusty undertone in its voice.

Suddenly the grayish figure bent down towards Eddie and asked in plain English "Are you awake yet?" and gave him a swift kick to the side.

Immediately Eddie knew it was that same cantankerous robot he had been kidnapped by. "Ouch" he yelled unintentionally. It felt worse than the time he'd gotten into a bar fight and had been kicked by a burly biker wearing steel-toed boots. The kick hurt more than it was probably intended to, guessed Eddie in a rare moment of clarity, because robots probably aren't as familiar with pain as frail humans are. Then, coming to his senses Eddie asked "Did you drug me?"

"You humans are a sharp bunch, aren't you?" replied Zed 937 Beta.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Eddie felt a dangerous combination of angry, confused, and helpless.

The purple and blue figure, which was a little less blurry by now, began to shout and wave its arms wildly again, to which the robot responded by shouting and screeching right back. Then it turned to Eddie again and said "She wants to talk to you. Stay there." And before Eddie could form a question it stomped out of his field of vision.

A few awkward moments passed and the purple and blue figure had a seat in a nearby chair. Eddie tried to sit up, but his drug-induced state made that unexpectedly difficult. He managed to do so, but only after struggling for a few minutes, while the figure just stared at him silently.

By the time Zed 937 Beta came back into the room Eddie's vision had returned to almost perfect clarity, and he was able to survey his surroundings. It was another room, a little larger than the so-called lounge he had passed out in, but bore a few similarities. It was sparsely furnished with two tacky sofas and chairs and had another one of those windows with a view of outer space, but this time the stars did not appear to be moving.

The woman who sat staring at him looked human, but had light blue skin and thick dreadlocks of the exact same color tied back in a pony tail. She wore a purple jumpsuit with a crest on the sleeve that reminded him of the one he had seen on the man being mugged in the park.

_What an amazing coincidence_, thought Eddie, and wondered if the woman would be amused if he told her about it. He looked up at her, but she was scowling and purposefully avoiding eye contact, so he decided the story would have to wait.

Zed 937 Beta bent down and presented him with a small colorful bottle. "Eat this" it demanded.

"The bottle?" Eddie asked stupidly.

"Don't they keep things in bottles on Earth? Is it just me or do you humans keep getting stupider and stupider?"

Eddie was amazed to find that he could read the label even though it wasn't printed in English. Some part of him deep down inside that he couldn't pinpoint seemed to understand what the words meant.

The label was printed in a language called Simp, which was discovered by scientists just over 50,000 years ago. Simp is a universal language, which means it is somehow inherently understood by every intelligent race in existence because it appeals to some primordial instinct possessed by all sentient forms of life. Though it is immediately understood by anyone who encounters it, one must still take proper lessons before being able to speak or write in Simp. The Simp alphabet contains only 7 letters, making it very simple and straightforward to learn, plus Simp typewriters are very small and compact, making them extremely portable and convenient to use. Also the grammatical structure of sentences is very simple, with very clear-cut rules regarding concepts such as tense, syntax, pluralization, and so forth.

Though it is understood by every sentient race in the galaxy, it is not the official language of any. Many scientists lobbied for it to be made the Milky Way's official language, but various groups such as publishing houses, language teachers, and alphabet soup manufacturers successfully lobbied against it because of the upheaval it would cause. Also many religious groups protested it, instantly labeling it as evil for reasons that only made sense to them, but to anyone else their arguments resembled nonsensical yammering.

The label on the bottle in Eddie's hand read: _Translatabs by Ketracet Labs_ and below that in bright yellow lettering it said: _Now with fewer misunderstandings than ever!_ On the back of the bottle it instructed him to simply chew one tablet, and informed him that the effects of the Translatab would occur immediately.

"What does it do?" he asked the robot, who stood waiting impatiently.

"Just take the snerping pill," Zed 937 Beta demanded viciously, "It will allow you to understand what this… woman is saying."

The cap twisted off fairly easily, and after removing what seemed like a pound of cotton and a freshness packed with a "Do not eat" warning printed on it, he found a single yellow pill at the bottom of the bottle.

Eddie eyed the pill hesitantly, remembering what happened the last time he had ingested something handed to him by the ornery robot. After a moment's deliberation he thought, _what's the worst that could happen?_ and popped the pill in his mouth. It tasted almost pleasant, like a lemon drop, but sweeter. He smiled, relieved by its apparent harmlessness, but his smile immediately twisted into an expression of pure agony as sharp needles of pain ran up the roof of his mouth and into his brain. He dropped the bottle and began clutching his throbbing head and writhing on the floor.

He tried to maintain some shred of dignity, but couldn't contain the screams of pain that soon poured from his crooked mouth. It felt as though a balloon was being inflated inside his cranium and his head was about to burst, spewing gray matter all over the room and onto the blue woman he hadn't even spoken with and the robot with whom he wished he never had.

There were so many things he'd never gotten to do in life, such as falling in love, getting married, finding a meaningful career, owning a home, slapping Serena across the face, and now it seemed like he'd never get to do any of those things because he was about to die of massive brain hemorrhaging. It was ironic that getting to travel in outer space and meeting a real live robot were things that he'd always fantasized about, but at this moment were far less appealing than he'd ever imagined they'd be, and he'd give up the bragging rights in a heartbeat just to be sitting at Blake's Tavern again.

Then, just when he thought it was all going to end, he vomited on the floor in front of him, and immediately felt one hundred percent better.

Translatabs work by taking a portion of the brain that the subject isn't using (In a brain such as Eddie's the Translatab has more than enough to work with) and converting it into an extremely efficient language processing center, allowing the subject to understand almost any language he or she will ever encounter. Because the process is so efficient, a brain the size of that of an ordinary human could be restructured to hold an almost unlimited amount of information.

Ketracet Labs has engineered many upgrades since the original Translatab, each upgrade including any new languages that have been discovered since the previous version. The newest pill contains understanding of over fifty-one and a half thousand languages, and boasts "Now with less misunderstandings than ever!" Of course, some misunderstandings do still occur. After all, nothing's perfect.

Even after taking a Translatab, one still must be careful when interacting with a species with which one is not familiar, or one could easily say something one didn't intend to say. For instance, when Eddie made the mess on the floor he inadvertently said hello in Vexodeejian. Needless to say, Vexodeejians try to keep their conversations short and to the point, and almost never say anything that isn't worth the trouble.

"What was that?" he asked, attempting to gain some sort of handle on the situation.

"That pill allows you to understand almost any language you will ever encounter" Replied Zed 937 Beta.

"That's amazing. I can't believe a pill could do all that. Is it in any way harmful?"

"Not as far as I know, but anything that useful has to be."

"You're not inspiring a lot of confidence."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to?" Zed 937 Beta's voice once again took on its sardonic tone.

"Umm, okay," said Eddie wearily, "but can someone please tell me what's going on?"

The pale blue woman stood up from her seat and stared hard at Eddie, her eyes seemed to pierce his flesh with their ice cold gaze. She spoke in a voice that was even colder: "My name is Fendra-Li and I am an assistant to Earth Ambassador Raymond."

"Who is this Earth Ambassador Raymond everyone keeps mentioning?" asked Eddie.

"Will you just shut the snerp up and let me finish?" snapped Fendra-Li, not breaking the cold hard stare that made Eddie feel just about as comfortable as a worm impaled on an ice cold hook.

He let out an involuntary whimper, which she interpreted as an invitation to continue.

"This" she flung one of her thin blue arms out toward the robot with such emphasis that it looked for a moment like it would break off "incompetent robot taxi driver was supposed to pick up the ambassador, and somehow ended up with you instead. What a fine mess we're in now."

"Well," said Eddie meekly, "c-can't you just take me home and pick up the ambassador and then everything will be okay?"

"No!" screeched Fendra-Li, "because the congress meets in three days and Earth is two days away."

For a moment Eddie thought he'd lose the contents of his stomach again "You mean I was passed out for two days?"

The woman's eyes flashed with a suddenly furious blaze of blue "How dare you think of yourself at a time like this? Don't you realize what's happening?"

"Umm-" replied Eddie.

"I'll tell you what's happening" her voice suddenly increased in intensity, but lowered in volume so that the words cut with the precision of a surgeon's knife "The Galactic Congress will convene in three days and will make some very important decisions that will determine the future of the galaxy. Earth must have representation."

The room was silent for a moment allowing the previous statement to sink in. As Eddie glanced nervously around the room, attempting to avoid eye contact with anyone, he made the kind of eye contact he would never forget. At first when he saw it he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, so he looked away, and when he looked back and it was still there he opened his mouth to express his trepidation, but all that emerged was a tiny squeak.

The other eyes in the room turned immediately in the direction in which Eddie's terrified gaze was fixed, but they responded to what they saw in a much more calm and collected manner. Behind one of the sofas an eyeball the size of an orange stood atop a thin stalk, peering over the couch at Eddie.

"Why do you have to be so snerping weird?" Fendra-Li scolded the eyeball, or presumably to what- or whomever it was attached.

Then from behind the sofa a figure stood up, giving Eddie more of a scare, though not intentionally. What Eddie saw frightened him in ways he never before would have imagined. It was obviously another alien creature of some sort, but if this was how most aliens were going to look, he didn't want to ever see another one as long as he lived. It had an oblong barrel-shaped body that stood atop two legs and had what appeared to be three tentacles protruding from each side instead of arms. And if that wasn't disturbing enough, its head was truly foreign in the mind of a human who had never left Earth before. Where its mouth should have been was an eye, and where its eyes should have been were three mouths and from its cranium protruded a large eye on a stalk – the very same that had been watching from behind the couch. Eddie wasn't certain, but it looked as though the alien was clad in an ill-fitting burlap sack.

The creature spoke: "Calm down, Fendri. I didn't do anything wrong"

To Eddie's horror he noticed that sounds were coming from all three of the mouths, each of them producing slightly different ranges of pitch, which together seemed to form some bizarre, yet recognizable language. Had it not been for the Translatab, Eddie was certain the sonic amalgam would have sounded completely bizarre. Oddly enough, he could tell from something in the creature's tone that it was quite friendly, unlike the light blue woman who had just been screaming at him.

The creature was an N'Rpkit'Ch-lit (the P is silent). If you think that word is difficult to pronounce, try learning their entire language. It is one of the most complex in the Milky Way galaxy, probably because it is produced by three mouths, each of which creates entirely different ranges of sound, that when combined, form words. Perhaps the most notable quality of the language is that the emotional meaning behind any spoken word or phrase is immediately apparent. This is because the sounds produced by one mouth carry the emotional content of the message, while the noises from the other two carry the informational component.

Many language scholars from distant worlds have gone to the planet N'Rpkit'Ch-lit to study the phenomenon, and very few have returned with their sanity. Fortunately Ketracet labs paid an exorbitant amount to one successful linguist and included the language on their next Translatab upgrade, so its complexity is no longer a barrier for those who do not speak it.

"But I'm afraid she's right" the creature continued.

"Well it's about time you spoke up" said Fendra-Li icily, "I'm getting tired of doing all the talking, especially since this retched snerp doesn't seem to grasp anything I'm telling him. And what did I tell you about calling me Fendri?"

The strange alien moved toward Eddie, who was still not sure whether to be alarmed or terrified, so he chose the simplest course of action and stood frozen and gaping at the thing lumbering toward him.

"What's your name?" the creature asked politely.

"I-I'm Eddie" he replied sheepishly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Eddie," the creature extended a tentacle, which after a moment's consideration Eddie reached out his own hand and shook. The creature continued: "My name is-" another tentacle shot out from the creature's side and smacked Eddie on the side of the head.

He leapt back in fear and raised his arms to block any further blows the strange alien might try to land on him.

"I'm sorry, did I frighten you?" asked the creature very apologetically, "My name doesn't translate well into other languages, and is most easily expressed by lightly whacking someone on the side of the head. Did I hurt you?"

Eddie shook his head, and slowly lowered his arms "No, I-I just wasn't expecting that."

Fendra-Li let out a sigh of annoyance "We just call him Headache. It makes things easier. Needless to say, he tends to start a lot of fights when introducing himself."

"Etiquette is a complicated thing to learn when you're dealing with species you've never encountered before" explained Headache "At least a few misunderstandings are inevitable every once in a while."

"How did you know to shake my hand?" asked Eddie, fascinated, "Is that how you greet people, even on other planets?"

"No. In fact, in some cultures, extending your hand in such a way is considered an insult. I've studied Earth culture extensively so that I could work as your - er - the Earth Ambassador's aide."

"Apparently you weren't paying attention when they told you that on Earth it's considered impolite to smack people on the head." Eddie chucked with satisfaction at his clever jibe until he realized no one else found his comment amusing, and then went back to being sheepish.

The N'Rpkit'Ch-lit are a peaceful race who spend most of their time farming and composing some of the most complicated and beautiful vocal music in the Milky Way. Much like the situation on Earth, most N'Rpkit'Ch-lit don't believe in alien life, as they themselves have never mastered long-range spatial travel, and therefore assume that the possibility of any other race accomplishing such a feat is unlikely. Also, similar to Earth, they are not considered particularly important to the Galactic Council.

In fact planets such as those two have representation on the Galactic Council for one very specific reason. Many thousands of years ago a law was passed stating that every planet with sentient life must have representation among the council. Since the passing of that law the term "sentient" has become the root of a great deal of controversy and strife because it was never concretely defined. As a result of the loose definition of the word, fierce debates take place when determining which planets are qualified to take part in galactic politics.

In order to remove a considerable amount of bickering and controversy from the council itself a special task force was appointed to select a planetary representative from worlds such as Earth and N'Rpkit'Ch-lit, whose populations are completely ignorant of galactic politics. Such planets were nicknamed "i-planets", in which the "i" stands for ignorant.

Many politicians argue that the policy of arbitrarily nominating a representative for an entire planet is completely unfair, considering that some planets have many governments. More advanced planets who stand united under one governing system argue that they only get to have one Ambassador, so those i-planets can shove it. It is reasoned that morons like Eddie and Headache are ideal representatives for i-planets because though they are uninformed and relatively uneducated about the needs of their planet, they are politically impartial because they know very little of what goes on inside their planets' governments. Also they are virtually immune to corruption because no one in their right mind would ever trust them enough to attempt to bribe them. Some would suggest that a more intelligent, worldly, and politically aware candidate would be better suited to represent the planet, but because tracking down someone with those kinds of qualifications would require too much effort, the council has decided it isn't worth the trouble. One very articulate member of the Galactic Council once put it best when he said: "Why bother? Those planets aren't important enough. These imbeciles will do just fine."

Unfortunately for the i-planets, qualified representatives are almost never chosen. For instance, Headache was chosen randomly by a task force that was forced to make a decision quickly because they had lost track of time while taking a detour to a local resort planet. After getting over the initial shock of being abducted by aliens for such an incredible purpose, Headache had proven to be very eager and dedicated to becoming a galactic ambassador and spent much time studying interplanetary etiquette. Unfortunately he was never able to get a firm grasp on it for several reasons, the first being that etiquette is not an important part of life on N'Rpkit'Ch-lit. In fact it is a concept that is completely unheard of, and the N'Rpkit'Ch-lit, being a simple and unpretentious race, would consider it very strange that someone would want to bother with such formalities at all. The second reason is that Headache is quite simply not very bright. More specifically, he lacks the sort of common sense that would prove invaluable to most people in trying situations, and in basic everyday situations for that matter. He does, however, display an amazing memory and the ability to retell stories in ways that can really captivate an audience, mostly because storytelling is a treasured pastime among his people. In fact, prior to getting roped into galactic politics, he had been studying to become a traveling minstrel.

Because of his tendency to behave in ways that are common among his own people, but viewed by others as very strange, he tends to find himself in awkward situations such as the incident in which he smacked Eddie upside the head. Also note the unfortunate circumstance in which he had been seated on the floor behind the couch with only his cranial eye visible, giving Eddie quite a scare. Unfortunately furniture does not exist on his home planet and he has never been able to adjust to using it properly. Sadly etiquette was one of the more serious obstacles that could have been avoided in his short-lived career as ambassador if the task force had simply spent more time finding a more suitable candidate for the position.

You are probably wondering why it is that Headache was working as an assistant to the Earth Ambassador if he was originally intended to be the ambassador to his own planet. The story behind it is a tragic, heart-rending tale, which I will account for you momentarily.

The unfortunate incident occurred when he was invited to an important diplomatic event with representatives from Xlavraxtria, a neighboring planet to his home world. Noting that the event was of particular political importance, one of his assistants advised him to wear something a little more stylish and sophisticated, rather than his typical outfit.

Headache, like most of his species, had no fashion sense and possessed no understanding of why anyone would put so much thought and concern into what they cover their body with. Instead of following fashion trends he chose to wear a simple burlap covering with holes for his tentacles, head, and legs. Oddly enough, because of the unique texture and composition of epidermis of N'Rpkit'Ch-lit people, they find burlap to be quite a comfortable fabric.

Lacking any fashion sense, common sense, or pretty much sense of any kind, he pinned a Gleez flower to his burlap covering and felt more stylish and sophisticated than ever. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Headache, Xlavraxtriacs are highly allergic to Gleez flower, and everyone at the conference immediately broke out in hives minutes after his arrival. He was promptly fired.

Realizing he would never fit in again at home after having been exposed to portions of the galaxy that none of his people had even begun to imagine, he chose to continue his political career in any way he could. He ended up getting just about the only job in the galaxy that someone with his horrendous employment record was qualified for: assistant to the ambassador of Earth.

"Excuse me" interjected the robot, who stood nearby trying to appear as impatient as possible, "I hate to interrupt your little chat, but I'd like to get going and you still haven't settled the bill."

Fendra-Li glared at the rusty robot "We don't owe you anything, you pile of old scrap metal. You didn't deliver the ambassador like you were supposed to. Instead you picked up this pathetic excuse for a human, who probably isn't even worth his weight in snerp droppings."

Eddie felt his face turning beet red, and opened his mouth to say something in his own defense, but then thought better of it when he realized that what she had said was probably in fact quite true, even though he had no idea what a snerp was, nor the value of its droppings.

"For all I knew, this human was the ambassador," countered the robot, "I assumed he'd suffered amnesia from the teleporter."

"For Heptoc's sake! You know that isn't true!" argued Headache, "You've been a taxi driver for years. Have you ever known anyone to have gotten amnesia from a teleporter?"

"Well, no" the insufferable robot admitted reluctantly.

"And besides," asserted Eddie, "I told you I wasn't the ambassador."

"Back off or I'll snap you in half!" roared Zed 937 Beta, its rusty metallic face suddenly only inches away from Eddie's.

Eddie, narrowly avoiding a heart attack, let out a whimper and tried his best not to cower in fear. Then he retreated to the corner of the room and did just that.

"I don't think you realize whom you're dealing with" stated Zed 937 Beta, a dangerous level of hostility building in its voice.

_Damned grammatically correct robots _thought Headache, who could never remember when to use "who" as opposed to "whom".

"No, _I_ don't think _you _know whom _you're_ dealing with" countered Fendra-Li.

"Actually I do," replied the robot matter-of-factly, "I'm dealing with a group of inferior life forms who don't know when to shut up. You see, I wasn't always a lowly taxi driver. I was once an assassin, and believe me, I still remember a thing or two from those days. Now you'll pay me if you know what's good for you."

"Listen pal, we don't want any trouble, so we'll pay you," pleaded Headache, "but only because we don't want any trouble."

"Today you've made an enemy for life," Zed 937 Beta said ominously, "I just wanted to let you know that before I go."

"Oh, and by the way, you filthy bucket or rust," added Fendra-Li, "the minute you leave I'm calling your supervisor to tell him what a lousy job you did."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," warned the robot, "but if you keep trying me you just might find out."

"That does it, you're not getting a tip," taunted Fendra-Li, then thought better of it. "Just kidding" she chuckled nervously.

The room was silent as the three non-robotic life forms nervously avoided eye contact with the menacing automaton until he left the room.

"You don't scare me," Fendra-Li called after Zed 937 Beta after he had left the room and was out of earshot, "Now shut up and get the snerp out of here!"

"Am I the only one who heard him say he used to be an assassin?" asked a shaken and bug-eyed Eddie, who was curled up in a fetal position in the corner of the room.


	4. Expletives

"What are we going to do now?" Fendra-Li asked no one in particular.

"Change our identities and hope it never tracks us down" replied Headache, only half joking.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm not afraid of that stupid robot," she tried to convince herself as well as the others, "I mean what are we going to do without the ambassador. The Galactic Council convenes in three days."

"Why don't you act as ambassador to Earth?" suggested Headache, "You're half-human and the daughter of a former ambassador. Besides, you've been an ambassador's assistant for years, so you know what needs to be done."

"I would make a great ambassador, wouldn't I?" she said, striking an epic pose and gazing at her own reflection in the window. "They'd all love me, and how can you go wrong with that?" She released her dreadlocks from the pony tail and shook her head luxuriously.

To Eddie's amazement the dreadlocks stood up of their own accord and began waving slowly in the air before they settled down along her back and shoulders. Just then it occurred to him that they were not dreadlocks, but tentacles. To his surprise he was not nearly as freaked out by that fact as he thought he would be. Then he glanced over at Headache and remembered that there were much stranger things in the galaxy than a few tentacles.

"Plus I have the best fashion sense in the galaxy," she went on, "I'd have to design a new uniform instead of this tacky purple monstrosity. I'd be the most popular ambassador ever!"

Eddie thought she sounded an awful lot like a high school cheerleader he once knew, but decided to keep that information to himself. "Wait a minute, you're half human?" he asked instead.

"No, that would never work" she continued with resignation, ignoring Eddie completely, "I'm half Gelorian and I've never even been to Earth. The council would never allow me to be its ambassador."

"What about your father?" suggested Headache, "I know he's retired, but maybe he could stand in as an emergency representative for now."

Fendra-Li shook her head, "No, he's on some resort planet in the Venovian Nebula. And even if he were less than three days away, I don't even know how to get in touch with him. And it doesn't help that he hasn't been to Earth in over two decades."

"So what does that leave us with?" asked Headache.

Then both slowly made eye contact with one another, then turned reluctantly toward Eddie, who was now sitting nervously in one of the chairs, playing with a thread that had come loose.

"There has to be some other way" said Fendra-Li in disbelief.

"If there is I can't think of it" Headache informed her.

"He is the only known Earthling who can represent the planet on such short notice, whether he's qualified to do so or not," admitted Fendra-Li.

Eddie looked up from the long string he had unraveled, leaving a large hole in the fabric of the chair. He now bore a striking resemblance to a deer in headlights "No way. This is not happening," he protested.

Headache squatted down next to Eddie, bringing his eye stalk to eye-level with him in what was obviously meant to be a reassuring manner, but the human found it downright creepy. In a soothing tone Headache said "Come on, we can prepare you for this. It won't be half as bad as you think. I promise."

Eddie shook his head.

"Seriously, how often do you get a chance to do something like this? It'll be interesting. You'll get to see how the intragalactic government works and you'll get to meet so many other species," added Headache, attempting to make the offer sound as alluring as possible.

"I've already seen enough" countered Eddie.

"This is an honor. You're one of a very small number of humans to ever get this kind of opportunity."

Eddie brought up an interesting counterpoint: "No."

"It's your duty as an Earthman to stand up and represent your planet when no competent person is available," argued Fendra-Li.

"I don't think you realize how freaked out I am right now," Eddie pointed out, "I can't handle this kind of pressure. I never even knew aliens existed and now you're asking me to represent my planet in some kind of intergalactic conference?"

"_Intra_galactic," Headache corrected him.

"What?"

"You said '_inter_galactic', but really it's _intra_galactic," said Headache, "The congress rules inside this galaxy, not across galaxies."

"Are semantics really that important right now?"

"Yes they are, especially if you're going to be the ambassador of Earth."

"This can't be happening," Eddie muttered, rubbing his forehead as if to massage the sanity back into his brain, "It feels like some crazy dream and I keep expecting to wake up at any minute."

Without a moment's hesitation Fendra-Li reached out and gave Eddie a hard slap across the face.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked defensively.

"If you were dreaming that would have woken you up," she asserted, "and it didn't, so you know this is all really happening. Now deal with it."

Eddie put on the biggest scowl he could muster, which didn't even begin to phase Fendra-Li.

"Listen," she said with a frustrated sigh, "It isn't nearly as much pressure as you're making it out to be. Earth is such an insignificant planet, no one's going to pay any attention to you anyway. They're going to be too busy listening to all the important people."

Eddie once again wore his confused face.

"Why do you think you got picked up by a rusty old Intragalaxi Taxi with a driver who didn't even care if you were really the ambassador?" she continued, "Do you think important representatives get that kind of treatment? And look at the ship you're in now. This is the Earth Envoy's official vessel, provided for us by the Galactic Council. Do you really think everyone gets a ship as puny and shoddy as ours? This piece of junk didn't even pass most of the safety evaluations."

"But hey" Headache chimed in, "119 out of 470 ain't bad."

Then Eddie realized something that made no sense to him: "If this is the Earth Envoy's ship, why didn't you fly to Earth to pick up the ambassador instead of sending that horrible taxi?"

"Fendra-Li needed our ship to go to a spa on Smailliw Ekrub" said Headache, rolling both of his eyes in a manner that Eddie found disconcerting.

"Don't roll your eyes at him" snapped Fendra-Li, "Do you think my skin stays this soft and creamy all by itself?" She paused for emphasis, then continued: "No. At least not while I'm under all this stress. It requires regular treatments," and then after a moment's consideration and a haughty expression she added "At least I make an effort to look good, unlike some life forms around here. Which reminds me, if Earth were that important, do you think its ambassador would have an assistant as inept as him?" she gestured toward Headache.

"Or as arrogant and thoughtless as her?" added Headache.

"I think I get the point," sighed Eddie, "Earth doesn't matter."

"That's not true," Fendra-Li disagreed, "Earth does matter, just not very much at all. In fact you're almost completely insignificant, but not quite."

"Oh, that makes me feel better," said Eddie sarcastically, and then realized that on some microscopic level it actually did actually give him some strange sense of comfort, though he was still nervous as hell.

"There are going to be a lot of issues to vote on, and we'll make a list for you so you don't forget how to vote on each one. That way you won't even screw up." Fendra-Li informed him, "Unless you're a complete imbecile," she added under her breath, but audibly enough for Eddie to hear.

"But what's really important" added Headache, "is your work on the Expletive Council."

"The _what_?" Eddie had to ask.

Now it was Fendra-Li's turn to roll her eyes. "Don't you know anything? Headache, will you explain this to him? I'm exhausted and I need to call Gurf."

"Do what you have to, Fendi. I've got things under control" said Headache with three devious smirks on his forehead.

Fendra-Li's voice rose to a screech "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!"

"Skidge," replied Headache, "calm down. Go call your boyfriend."

Indignantly, Fendra-Li stomped out of the room.

Moments later Eddie heard a great deal of whining and crying and unintelligible screeching coming from the next room, and reluctantly asked "Is she okay? Should one of us go and check on her?"

"No," replied Headache, "She's just on the phone with her boyfriend, probably having a fit because of what's happened."

"Oh," said Eddie, a combination of relieved and disconcerted, "but shouldn't I be able to understand her? Did my Translatab stop working?" he asked, terrified at the idea that he might have to endure the agony of ingesting another one of those torturous pills.

"Don't worry" Headache reassured him, "your Translatab is still working. She just doesn't make a lot of sense when she's having a fit. I don't know how her boyfriend understands her at all. He must have supernatural hearing as well as supernatural patience. I'll admit that Fendra-Li's an attractive woman, but he's the only guy I know who can put up with her constant whining and pouting."

"Now let's get back to the matter at hand" Headache said, getting back to the previous subject, "If you're going to be on the Expletive Council I'm going to have to explain a few things to you first."

"I think I'm out of my league here," complained Eddie, "I didn't know I'd have to be in two different councils. I don't think I can handle it."

"Sure you can," Headache reassured him, "I did it just fine until I got fired."

"What?"

"Never mind, it isn't important. What's important is that I tell you what you need to know about the Expletive Council."

"What does the Expletive Council do anyway?" Eddie asked, bracing himself for an explanation he was almost sure he wouldn't be able to grasp.

"It is in charge of making decisions about what expletives people are supposed to use."

"I don't get it. What's an expletive?"

"An expletive is a word you use when you're angry or frustrated usually, but a lot of people use them in casual conversation these days. Earthlings use words like bitch and fuck and Jesus Christ."

"You mean swear words?"

"Yes."

"Why would there be a council that decides what swear words people use?" Eddie asked in disbelief.

"It's very important to use the right expletives, and that is why the council was put in place."

"That makes no sense." For a moment Eddie was almost ready to hail the nearest Intragalaxi Taxi and head home to Earth, even if it meant riding with another homicidal robot.

"To understand the purpose of the Expletive Council one must first understand the history of expletives. In order to understand the history of expletives one must understand the history of the universe."

"You know the history of the universe?" Eddie had to admit, he was a little fascinated.

"Well, just the important points."

"Do you know how the universe was created?" he asked, astonished.

"Of course."

"Well, how was it created?"

"The Big Bang of course. I thought even Earthlings knew that."

"We do, but some people think it was created by God."

"Oh, it was."

"What?"

"I said 'Oh, it was,'" repeated Headache, a little louder.

"But I thought you said it was created by the Big Bang."

"I did say that. God created the big bang."

"So you mean there really is a god?"

"No."

"But you just said there was." Eddie's head was now spinning.

"I did. There _was_ a god. She's dead now," Headache stated matter-of-factly.

"She?"

"Yes, it is a known fact that God was female. You did know that didn't you?"

"Umm, of course. Everyone knows God was female," Eddie lied, "but when did he - er - she die?"

"Oh, a few billion years ago."

"What happened to him – I mean - her?"

"Well, people kept taking her name in vain. Every time her name was taken in vain it hurt her, not a lot, but in a very small, almost insignificant way," explained Headache, "But people liked to take her name in vain an awful lot, and every little bit adds up, so it eventually killed her."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. Why would I lie about the death of a major deity?"

"I can't believe this. How do you know that what you're saying is true?" Eddie asked, skepticism evident in his voice.

"Historical documents, some hearsay and conjecture. But it's all been tested and we're absolutely sure we know what we're talking about."

"How could you possibly be sure?"

"Listen, we don't really have time to get into it right now, at least not if you want to be prepared by the time the council convenes," asserted Headache, less patiently, "You'll have to trust me on this one."

"Okay" Eddie exhaled deeply. "So why did people start taking God's name in vain in the first place?"

"When sentient life first evolved it took many different forms on many different planets. Some dwelled on land, others in the sea, others deep underground, et cetera. What all of the species had in common was that they had a limited understanding of the world around them, limited by their senses. For instance, humans have only five senses. Some species have more, some have less. Your perception of the universe around you is limited by your senses, and of course your size. A tiny little human on Earth has a very difficult time understanding what all those little dots are in the sky, and why some are much bigger than others. Eventually they all realized that their knowledge of their surroundings was in some way limited. As you are well aware, people in general are not content with having unanswerable questions. They always seek an answer, at first via scientific inquiry. But science is limited by the intelligence of the scientist as well as the resources available to said scientist. At some point in time every species has grown impatient with science and made that leap to religion as a quick answer to the questions that science could not yet answer."

"They used God as an explanation for questions like 'Who created the universe?'" reasoned Eddie.

"Exactly," said Headache, relieved that the Earthling understood him so far, "Fortunately for them God really did exist and had really created the universe, and she was very happy to finally get some recognition for it. For years people had marveled at the night sky and yearned for an explanation for phenomena such as the moon and shooting stars, and God was the perfect explanation for it. People began to worship her and build temples and praise her daily for the wonderful things she provided for them such as food and shelter. Regrettably, people also began to turn to God for answers about why things went wrong in life, and they began to blame her for things such as natural disasters, plagues and famine, which she was also responsible for."

Eddie nodded. It all made sense to him so far.

"This, however, was when people began taking her name in vain. They often got frustrated when they stubbed their toes, when they got sick or when a loved one died. Whenever misfortune struck they would shout God's name angrily into the air, furious because she had allowed bad things to happen, and it gave them some relief. In a complicated universe a lot of things go wrong, so her name got used in vain a lot. That was the beginning of the end for God."

"I understand why they used her name in vain, but I don't understand how it killed her," Eddie commented.

"This is where it gets interesting," said Headache with an excited grin on each of his mouths. "She had created the universe in such a way that whenever anyone praised her it would give her power, like a battery being recharged. But on the flip side of the coin, every time someone took her name in vain it would injure her. This was necessary because the universe requires balance in order to continue to exist. God created the universe with these laws and was bound to them even herself. Every time someone took her name in vain they got a slight sense of relief from it because by causing her that tiny amount of pain it alleviates the frustration and pain that the speaker had been experiencing. It's the same as the rush you get from smacking someone who has just insulted you."

"But you said people were worshipping God too, so shouldn't that have made up for them taking her name in vain?" argued Eddie.

"No, it didn't. You know as well as I do that people swear a lot more often than they pray."

Eddie nodded in agreement, realizing that he couldn't remember the last time he prayed, and also couldn't remember a single day in which he hadn't sworn for one reason or another. "That makes sense I guess. But why would people hurt their own god just to make themselves feel better?"

"People had no idea they were slowly killing their creator. All they knew was that taking her name in vain made them feel better, so they continued to do it. Eventually God died, and people no longer felt any relief from cursing. Instead, they just got more frustrated and started taking out their anger on one another. The universe became a much more violent place. Finally, after millennia of bloodshed and violence from all the pent up frustration, scientists on a distant planet called Rebren uncovered the power of expletives and realized that new expletives needed to be created so that people might once again gain peace of mind from swearing."

"How did they make up new expletives?" Eddie asked, awestruck.

"Early on they used Rebrenese criminals as their designated scapegoats. They chose the worst criminals and locked them away in a special prison located in a military base in the Rebrenese city of Scoji. The names of the criminals were published and the Rebrenese people were told to use them as expletives. It was a very efficient system at first. The general population would find relief in using the criminals' names in vain and the criminals would eventually die from the abuse of their names. It was a brutal system, but it worked.

"Eventually people caught on to how well it worked and began swearing more and more often, and soon criminals were dying mere days after having been locked away in Scoji. Having all the world's problems blamed on one single person tends to kill that person fairly quickly. Every few days a new criminal had to be designated the new scapegoat, and it became very difficult for people to keep track of what name they could use in vain, so they just started taking the name Scoji in vain. This began to create a lot of problems. The city of Scoji began to crumble at an alarming rate. Buildings began to deteriorate at an unnatural speed, plants died, fires spontaneously erupted, and eventually chasms even opened in the ground. The government implored the people of Rebren to stop cursing the name of the city, but people were selfish and would rather feel that moment of relief from swearing, even if it meant the demise of a major city. Despite massive efforts by the Rebren government, the swearing continued until eventually the entire city was obliterated, leaving a vast crater where it once stood."

"That doesn't seem possible."

"Oh, believe me, it is possible," affirmed Headache.

"So then what did they do?"

"Well, they realized they had to come up with a more permanent solution to the problem," continued Headache, "so they explored the galaxy in search of a scapegoat that could endure much more punishment. They contacted other species on other worlds in search of help, and eventually the issue became very well known across the galaxy. Finally the Galactic Council recognized the problem and decided that a think tank should be established to assign a permanent solution. Thus the Expletive Council was formed."

"One thing I don't understand about all this is that if God is dead, why are people on Earth still using her name in vain?" asked Eddie, confounded.

"Well, they're still using her name in vain because they don't realize she's dead. Also, because Earthlings haven't been told about the expletive problem, they don't know about the new expletives that are currently being used. That's why Earth is such a violent place. Earthlings are not getting any relief from swearing, so they act out against one another in violent ways."

"So has the expletive problem been solved?"

"Of course not, otherwise we wouldn't be so concerned about the session of the Expletive Council you'll be attending."

"I thought you said new expletives are currently being used," challenged Eddie.

"They are, but many people, including Earth Ambassador Raymond, don't think the Expletive Council is making very good choices these days," explained Headache.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the Expletive Council convenes every so often to discuss the problem of swearing and how to go about channeling all this negative energy. After they come to some sort of a consensus the convention is called to an end, followed by an enormous reception in which they celebrate their accomplishments by getting drunk. The reception is such a lavish and entertaining event that during the convention the representatives are always so preoccupied with thinking about the party that they never actually get around to solving the expletive problem. Instead they usually come up with some half-assed temporary solution and call an end to the congress before anything has really been accomplished."

Eddie couldn't believe his ears. The Expletive Council sounded like it was almost as ineffectual as most governments on Earth.

"No satisfactory solution has ever been implemented. In fact, some very bad temporary solutions have been put in place in the past. For instance, several hundred thousand years ago the council decided they would designate the great beast Maldron of planet Grulpragon as the scapegoat. They chose Maldron because he was a creature that had reportedly been woven from pure evil, and therefore was the perfect candidate for the position of scapegoat. They placed a strong force field around Grulpragon so that he could not escape and he was made the official scapegoat of the galaxy."

"Why was that such a bad idea?"

"The council didn't know this, but Maldron actually thrived on negative energy, and sat for hundreds of years feeding on the hate he received from constantly having his name used in vain. Then one day he broke through the force field around Grulpragon as a great black powerful demon, tens of thousands of times larger than he was when he had first been locked away and billions of times more powerful. He wreaked havoc on the galaxy, destroying everything in his path and enjoying every moment of it. Entire solar systems were demolished and entire races decimated."

"How did they stop him?" Eddie felt like a child listening to a bedtime story.

"The Galactic Council held an emergency meeting and decided to amass as many battleships as they could. Every government contributed as many warships as they were able to spare and an armada was formed, the likes of which the galaxy had never before seen. It was the most massive fleet the Milky Way had ever known and together they launched a large-scale cooperative effort that was only possible with the complete cooperation of the galaxy's most powerful worlds. All the people of the galaxy marveled at what a truly extraordinary thing could be accomplished if they all simply worked together. The fleet converged with Maldron near the Belfod Amalgam, a densely populated star system, and a great battle took place."

"That's amazing. So they all worked together and destroyed Maldron?"

"No, the entire fleet was annihilated in a matter of hours, and Maldron, extremely satisfied with his conquest, was now more confident than ever. His taste for blood was nearly unquenchable at this point, so he headed toward the nearest star system looking for a new race to massacre.

"A very wise sage from the Belfod Amalgam, upon witnessing the destruction of the armada, believed he knew how he could stop the terrible beast before it would reach his beloved star system. The sage set out in a small shuttle and met Maldron only several thousand miles away from the outermost planet of the Belfod Amalgam. Upon seeing the lone shuttle intrepidly approaching, Maldron was amused.

"'Why have you foolishly ventured out to meet me instead of fleeing in terror as any wise creature would do?' The thunderous voice of Maldron penetrated into the shuttle, rattling the wise man to the bone.

"The sage replied in a stern and courageous tone: 'Maldron, I demand that you turn around and leave my people in peace, for I have the key to your demise and I am not afraid to use it, should you provoke me.'

"'Hahahahaha!' the evil beast bellowed in sheer amusement, 'I am indestructible. There exists not a weapon in the universe that can put an end to my bloodbath.'

"'Maldron, you are an overconfident fool. Surely you must know that everyone has an Achilles Heel, and I have determined what yours is,' said the sage coolly.

"'Nonsense!' the creature roared 'Try what you will, but nothing can harm me!'

"'I love you.' declared the sage confidently, 'you are a wonderful being an my heart overflows with warm sentiment for you, Maldron'

"It was at that moment that Maldron realized that he did have one weakness. He felt the cold sting of love and felt a miniscule, almost infinitesimal portion of his power drained away. It was the first time in his existence that positive sentiment had ever been expressed toward him, and he didn't enjoy it, to say the least. Immediately he grabbed hold of the shuttle, broke it in half, and swallowed the man inside. The sage died instantly, and his revolutionary idea of killing the beast with kindness died with him. Fortunately, the beast became seriously ill, not realizing he was allergic to Belfodians, and promptly lapsed into a coma. This gave the Galactic Council enough time to transport Maldron back to Grulpragon and erect a new, more powerful force field, so that he would not escape again."

"And people stopped using his name as an expletive?" asked Eddie.

"Well, the Expletive Council did advise everyone to stop using his name in vain," explained Headache, "but then realized that not everyone would get the memo, and some people are just too stubborn to comply anyway. So to ensure that he wouldn't ever become powerful enough to break through the new and improved force field they legally changed his name from Maldron to Gigglesbie."

Eddie laughed out loud at the ridiculous name.

"May I remind you that millions of billions of people died?" Headache scolded him.

"Sorry," said Eddie, stifling his laughter. Then he realized that not everything in the story seemed to add up. "If the sage died before he could tell anyone the secret to defeating Maldron, how do you know about it?" he asked.

"Oh, we know that part of the story because Maldron mumbled something about it in his sleep while he was being hauled back to Grulpragon."

"I can't believe a sleeping demon is the most reliable source for that kind of important historic information"

"It's a good thing he talks in his sleep. We actually know more about his encounter with the sage than we do about what went on in the Expletive Council after his capture," Headache chuckled.

"That doesn't make sense. I thought you just said they legally changed his name and had him contained in a force field on his home world."

"That's just about all anyone knows. No one has any specific information on what happened to the name change documents."

"Don't they keep records?" Eddie asked.

"They do, but the records of the meeting were lost when the records keeper's ship went missing the day after the Expletive Council declared recess."

"What happened to the ship?"

"No one knows for sure what happened," said Headache, "All we know is that a distress signal was transmitted, but only for a very short time, and was intercepted by only one ship: a cargo vessel that happened to be within range. Unfortunately the ship's pilot was drunk and forgot to record the distress signal before it finished broadcasting."

"Did he at least remember what was said in the message?"

"He remembered only part of the message, and the next day while recovering from his hangover he contacted the authorities and a search party went out. They searched for weeks based on what little information the drunken cargo ship pilot was able to remember from the distress signal, but it was not enough to give them any leads, and so the records keeper's ship was never found, and lost with it are all the records from the meeting."

"It seems kind of irresponsible to have only one copy of the records," Eddie scoffed.

"Fortunately one delegate had the foresight to make a backup copy of the documents in the event of such a catastrophe, but that copy was also aboard the records keeper's ship, and so it too was lost. This meant that the delegates were forced to reconvene after their typical week-long celebration that always followed a council meeting, and piece together what information they could still remember about the previous meeting. Whatever information could be salvaged from the wreckage of their mangled brain cells left over from a week of partying was then recorded and kept safe."

"What information was never recovered?"

"Well, if I knew that it wouldn't be lost, would it? No one knows for sure what information was lost when the ship went missing. We only know a few things for certain. We know that the shield frequency of the new force field around Grulpragon was among that information. Also, all the documents regarding Maldron's name change were lost. Fortunately the chances of anyone using the name Gigglesbie in vain are slim to nil, so even if those records have fallen into the wrong hands there is very little to worry about. Besides, it is more than likely that the records were destroyed long ago along with the ship, otherwise it would probably have been found by now."

Eddie sat back and let all the new information sink in. "I can't believe all of that happened over something as ridiculous as a swear word. It's a shame so many people had to die."

"One upside of Maldron's rampage was that it was followed by an era of galactic peace and tranquility," Headache reassured him.

"Oh, because the governments realized that they could all work together for the greater good, like they did when they united against Maldron?" asked Eddie optimistically.

"No, because all their best warships were destroyed. Of course, eventually they all built new and better fleets and started fighting amongst each other again. Peace on such a large scale was never bound to last."

"So what expletive is being used now?" Eddie wanted to know.

"Well, after the fiasco with Maldron many different expletives were implemented, but no long-term solution was ever found. For the time being we're using the words Skidge, snerp, Nurt, and Heptoc."

"What do those words even mean?" asked Eddie.

Several hundred years ago on the planet Skidge a seven-headed goat was born and was named Heptoc by the Skidgians. Because unlike most goats on Skidge, he had seven heads instead of just one, Heptoc was immediately the subject of much controversy. He was interpreted by some as a bad omen, while others saw him as a good omen. The two groups at first attempted to settle their ideological differences through spirited debates and the age-old Skidgian tradition of arm wrestling. Over time fistfights erupted between members of the two groups, which then elevated to knife fights and eventually even name-calling. Before long the occasional battle broke out and soon the planet plunged into an all-out war. The war lasted several decades until both sides were finally obliterated.

The only Skidgians who survived were the few that had kept neutral throughout the feud and were fortunate enough to avoid being caught in the crossfire. The number of people who had remained neutral was very small because each side felt so strongly about the issue they each had launched into a ceaseless recruitment campaign, which meant that very few Skidgians were able to avoid ending up on one side or the other. Even fewer survived to see the end of the war. Those that survived swore an oath to remain forever neutral on the matter of whether Heptoc was a good or bad omen, even though the evidence so far seemed to state rather glaringly that he was a bad omen, considering he had indirectly brought about the demise of most of the planet's population. Some of the survivors formed a society called The Ipconvivia Draxcra, which means "protectors of the seven-headed goat, whose alignment remains uncertain". Their goal was to ensure that no harm came to Heptoc until it could be determined for what purpose he existed.

The Ipconvivia Draxcra thought it prudent to address the Galactic Council on the matter, hoping to gain support and assistance in ensuring Heptoc's safety. Upon learning of the situation, and much to the dismay of the Ipconvivia Draxcra, the Expletive Council reasoned that Heptoc's purpose was to serve as the next galactic scapegoat. They had several reasons for arriving at this conclusion, the first of which was that he had survived a massive full-scale war on his home planet, so he must be able to withstand a lot of damage and therefore would not die quite as quickly as previous scapegoats had. The second reason for their conclusion was that Heptoc was a goat with no obvious purpose, so why the hell not kill him with expletives and put an end to the whole controversy?

The Expletive Council decided the following: Heptoc's name shall be a new expletive, as well as the name of his planet, Skidge. In addition, they invented the words snerp, which means "a species of goat native to planet Skidge born with seven heads", and Nurt, which is a verb meaning "to be a snerp", which would also function as expletives. The councilors were so overly pleased with themselves for having invented three new expletives that they threw the most extravagant reception in Expletive Council history. It was so excessive that it ended up costing them their entire budget allotment for the next two centuries. Fortunately Heptoc has lived long enough to see the convening of the next Expletive Council, but very few members of the Ipconvivia Draxcra remain because Skidge is barely habitable anymore following the series of natural disasters that occurred as a result of the constant abuse of the planet's name.

The surviving members have one goal in mind during the next meeting of the council: the current expletives must be changed so that Heptoc may survive and serve whatever purpose he was brought into existence for. They are fairly certain his intended purpose is not to serve as a scapegoat for angry beings all over the galaxy, but have not been allowed to dispute the council's decision in the last two hundred years, and are eager to do so, to say the least.

Headache explained this all to Eddie, with emphasis on the fact that since this was the first Expletive Council to be held in over two hundred years, it was a critical meeting and he'd need to be prepared. This, of course, was the last thing the frightened Earthman wanted to hear, given that he was already under enough pressure.


	5. Wealth

Eddie's nervous thoughts were interrupted when the automatic door leading to the transporter room opened and a man walked in. He was tall and looked very similar to Fendra-Li, with the same long tentacles protruding from his head, though his skin was a much darker shade of blue, like all full-blooded Gelorians. Though Eddie couldn't pinpoint exactly why, the man appeared rather plain and unassuming, the type of guy who wouldn't stand out in a crowd. Eddie found it particularly strange that he somehow instinctually noticed this, considering that he had never before seen a full-blooded Gelorian.

"Gurf!" shouted Headache, and stood up to give the man a pat on the shoulder with two of his tentacles (a common greeting among Headache's race).

"It's good to see you" said the man in an unpretentious voice that commanded neither respect nor even the slightest bit of attention. In fact, Eddie wasn't even certain he would have noticed that the man was speaking at all, except for the fact that he was looking directly at him and had seen his lips moving.

"This here's Eddie, our stand-in Earth Ambassador," said Headache, waving a tentacle at the Earthman.

Then, turning to Eddie the man said "Pleased to meet you, I'm Gurf Morlix. Fendra-Li's already told me a lot about you."

Eddie didn't know how to react, assuming from what he overheard from Fendra-Li's frantic phone conversation that what she'd said about him was not good, to say the least, so he asked "Are you an assistant to the ambassador too?"

"No," replied Gurf, "I'm Fendra-Li's boyfriend. I'm just here for moral support. Speaking of which, where is that princess of mine?"

"She's in her room" Headache informed him.

Gurf went to go find Fendra-Li.

After he had left the room, Eddie asked "_That's_ her boyfriend? Isn't he sort of-"

"Plain?" Headache finished his thought for him.

"Yeah" confirmed Eddie, "I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed. Though I guess I'm not one to talk."

"Are you kidding?" asked Headache rhetorically, "I've only known you a little while, but I bet you have more personality in just one of your dead skin cells than he has altogether."

"Thanks" said Eddie, flattered by the bizarre analogy, and smiling for the first time since he'd been on the ship, "but why would she date someone like him?"

"Are you kidding?" Headache asked again, rhetorically of course, "He's perfect for her. She's an attention whore and doesn't want to have to compete with her own boyfriend for the spotlight. She'll never have to worry about that at all with him. He's so dull that if he were a hot knife he wouldn't even be able to cut through butter. And besides, he's a total doormat. He'll do anything she says, and even when he tries to say no, she starts screaming or crying until he breaks down. It never fails."

"That sounds like a lot of couples I know back on Earth" said Eddie, amazed to find that interspecies relationships were so relatable, "So why does he stay with her if she treats him like that?"

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed she's a total hottie. Even I think so, and I'm usually attracted to women with eye stalks. Gurf thinks he's lucky to score a specimen like her. She's got looks, she's the daughter of a fairly successful diplomat, and she's the only known Human-Gelorian hybrid. Needless to say, she's got a lot going for her."

"Jeez, you should be a salesman."

"I've thought about it, but I sort of got pigeon-holed into politics. Don't ask me how. It's a long story."

Fendra-Li burst into the room with an enormous grin on her face and shouted excitedly "I have great news! We're going to Bior Sess!" and began skipping and prancing exuberantly around the room, flailing her arms with joy.

"Why in Heptoc's name would we go there?" Headache wanted to know.

"Gurfie promised me!" she squealed with delight, continuing her joyous dance, "and while we're there we can have a uniform made for him." She gestured vaguely in Eddie's direction. "At least that way you'll be stylishly dressed when you crash and burn at the Galactic Congress," she finished with a vicious smirk.

"He's not going to crash and burn" argued Headache, "He'll do just fine."

As he uttered the last sentence Eddie could hear a hint of restrained doubt in his voice and tried hard to ignore it, but couldn't. "What's Bior Sess?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject. Plus he wanted to know what he was in for.

"It's just some overpriced luxury goods dealer," said Headache, shaking his head dismissively.

Fendra-Li stopped dead in her tracks and glared at the N'Rpkit'Ch-lit. "It is not!" she shouted, "Bior Sess is the pinnacle of high fashion. _Some_ life forms are just too simple to understand that."

Headache rolled his eyes "Whatever you say, Fendi," and then covered his head to shield himself from the barrage of slaps and poorly maneuvered arm swings she bombarded him with.

Whether Headache or Fendra-Li's opinion of Bior Sess is more accurate depends on who you ask. The Milky Way's so-called elite members of high society would argue that Fendra-Li is right, and anyone who's anyone tries to wear as much Bior Sess as they can possibly afford. More sensible life forms, whose minds have not been tainted by excessive amounts of wealth, would argue in favor of Headache's viewpoint.

Bior Sess is a luxury goods designer, considered by many to be a visionary because of his radical ideas about high fashion. He constantly invents outrageous new trends that appeal to people with too much money and the propensity for wasting it on overpriced and impractical luxury items. His creativity is actually fuelled by his passion for exotic hallucinogenic drugs, which accounts for the fact that most of his creations are downright hideous. Bior Sess clients, however, show a remarkable talent for not noticing the repugnance of the goods.

Scientists have studied this remarkable phenomenon and have postulated the WIBA Hypothesis, which explains a lot of the peculiar behaviors exhibited by those with excessive amounts of wealth. The WIBA hypothesis is named because of its relatively straightforward explanation that Wealth Induces Brain Atrophy. WIBA syndrome has been accepted by the Milky Way Psychiatric Society as a psychiatric condition, treatable only through extensive psychotherapy. Its symptoms include severe neuroses and constant paranoia of being mistaken for, as well as a disdain for, and an overwhelming drive to be separated from, those with less wealth. Patients with WIBA benefit from treatment and psychiatrists profit greatly from this because it creates more business for them, so it is a win-win situation.

One notable symptom of WIBA syndrome is that they tend to be very insecure about their social rank and become obsessed with finding new ways to feel more powerful and important than those with less wealth. They accomplish this by ensconcing themselves in designer labels. Another notable fact about the wealthy is that if a truly grotesque article of clothing is attached to a tag with a designer name on it, it suddenly becomes acceptable for an individual with WIBA to pay an exorbitant price for the item.

Bior Sess is arguably one of the most diabolical geniuses of all time because of his ability to exploit the wealthy by creating a demand for otherwise useless and superfluous, ridiculous looking, wasteful luxury items, and at the same time giving the wealthy a sense of purpose. One notable accomplishment of his was that he pioneered the practice of defining fashion trends that would go out of style at the end of every season. This was a very savvy maneuver on his part because it ensured that there would be a demand for his new line of products every season. It benefited the exorbitantly wealthy because it ensured that they would have to pay close attention to current fashion trends, a pastime they enjoyed because it distracted them from what terrible people they were and from the suffering of those less fortunate around them. Environmentalists and conservationists hated Bior Sess for this because it meant that more animals would be killed every season for the sake of creating new wardrobes and more waste would be created as the clothing from previous seasons are discarded.

Bior Sess also realized that there were a great deal of individuals who longed to live the extravagant lifestyle of the extremely wealthy, but could not. These individuals were the sort who would do anything they could to appear as though they possessed wealth, even though they didn't. Bior Sess found a way to appeal to this unique breed of individual by introducing a line of clothing that was completely covered in the Bior Sess monogram print, so that everyone would be immediately aware that it was unmistakably high-end fashion. Thanks to his innovation people who wanted to pose as the rich could now strut confidently down the street, their ridiculously expensive clothing silently broadcasting to everyone around them that they had money because they were covered in the initials BS. Bior Sess found this very rewarding because the fact that people would pay so much just to wear his initials appealed to his egocentric nature (which also accounted for the fact that his name was attached to the clothing line, the boutique, and everything associated with it). Admittedly, he also got a real kick out of seeing people pay so much money just to look ridiculous.

A well known psychologist who spent years studying the wealthiest percentage of people in the galaxy wrote an eye opening account of his findings entitled _Life Forms With Excessive Wealth and Why They Can Kiss My Snerp_. The book was a major hit among the majority of the galaxy's population, but was banned in most ivory towers and gated communities.

It is often said that money makes the world go 'round, a fact that is best known by citizens of the planet Ritchbich. Long ago on one fateful day a very opulent citizen of Ritchbich by the name of Pridonna looked in the mirror and was appalled to find wrinkles on her once flawless face. Instead of having her driver immediately take her down to her local plastic surgeon, as most spoiled rich women would have done, she decided to take more drastic action. She understood that gravity was responsible for the wrinkles that plagued her visage, and decided that the laws of physics on her planet were to blame. She immediately sued the planetary government for damages, claiming that they were somehow responsible for the law of gravity on Ritchbich.

She hired a team of the most expensive lawyers on the planet to ensure her victory in the courtroom. She hired the team for two reasons: firstly they the best lawyers, certain to comb through every last clause in the law books to find reason why she should be given some sort of compensation for what gravity had done to her. Secondly, they would march into the courtroom all together and intimidate the government representatives.

A week before the trial she met with the team to discuss their courtroom strategy. The lawyers, most of them being lackeys and yes men who catered to her every whim, were too terrified to tell her the truth, which was that despite hours of research they could find no legal reason why the government should be held responsible for her disfigurement, and that there was no way she could possibly win the lawsuit. After a half hour of stalling and placating their client the lawyers still hadn't worked up the courage to tell her how futile her lawsuit was.

Finally one young ambitious lawyer stood up and addressed her. "Ms Pridonna", he began in a clear, courageous voice, "I'm afraid this team of counselors has not been entirely honest with you regarding our legal strategy." It was his hope that by being honest with her he would make a favorable impression and earn her respect.

"What do you mean?" she demanded, appalled.

"We have thoroughly explored all facets of the law, but I'm afraid we can find no legal basis for how you might win the lawsuit."

"This is absurd!" she snapped "What am I paying you all for if you can't win a simple lawsuit against the planetary government?"

"I'm afraid we have done all we can, but we are not likely to win."

"I'm not worried," she replied smugly, "When they see me walk into that courtroom with all of you representing me they will be so impressed that they won't know what to do and they'll be forced to side with me."

"With all due respect, Ms. Pridonna, creating a spectacle is not likely to win you the sympathy of the court."

"How dare you?" she shouted "I will not tolerate your insolence any longer. You're fired. Now leave this room immediately or I will lodge a complaint and have you stripped of your title."

As angry as she was upon hearing the lawyer's words, she could not deny that what he spoke was the bitter truth. She decided that in order to win the lawsuit she would need to take more drastic measures, so she paid a surprise visit to the court judge two nights before the trial. At first the judge declined to meet with her, citing the moral code that forbade a judge from meeting a client alone before a trial, but Pridonna claimed she had a matter of utmost importance to discuss with him and that it could not wait, so he admitted her into his quarters. She was dressed quite elegantly in finely crafted crystal jewelry and a long crimson robe. As the chamber door was closed she threw off the robe in an attempt to seduce him, revealing her nude form, which was once beautiful and statuesque, but had long since become wrinkled and saggy in all the wrong places.

The judge was so alarmed and disgusted by the grotesque form that stood before him that he dropped his ceremonial staff and its crystal head shattered as it hit the floor. His hands flew up to cover his eyes and mouth as a small amount of vomit came up from his stomach despite his best efforts to suppress it. Reluctantly he swallowed it and then washed his mouth out with a swig of alcohol from a flask that he kept hidden within the folds of his ceremonial robe. He swallowed several more gulps of alcohol and shook his head violently as if to rid his mind of the vile image that was not branded into his ocular cortex. By this time Pridonna had already covered herself in embarrassment, having anticipated quite a different reaction than that which had actually occurred.

Having seen proof of the woman's hideous disfigurement caused by the harsh cruelty of gravity the judge was convinced that justice must be served. Of course he still required a generous bribe in order to make a ruling in her favor. She made what she believed was a fair offer, but the judge insisted that she raise it to cover the expense of the counseling he would need for post-traumatic stress disorder.

After a short trial the corrupt judge ruled that the government of Ritchbich had to relax the law of gravity on the planet. It was an endeavor that was so expensive that the planetary government went completely bankrupt in doing so.

The government officials decided to cut their losses by selling the planet to Pridonna, then pocketed the money and made a fast getaway before their citizens even knew what had happened. In the ensuing years Pridonna ruled over the planet with an iron fist, instituting biased laws that deprived its citizens of their basic rights and taxed them heavily so that she could have new palaces built for herself every month. Eventually the citizens of Ritchbich revolted and Pridonna's regime was overthrown with almost no resistance, since her approval rating was negative three percent, with a three percent margin of error.

Pridonna was put on trial for crimes against her entire planet's population, during which she tried unsuccessfully to bribe the judge. After careful deliberation it was decided that as punishment she would be drawn and quartered via continental drift. It was the most severe sentence available, in which the years of anticipation of being pulled apart are almost as agonizing as the event itself. To ensure that she would live to endure the eventual pain of being slowly ripped to pieces by plate tectonics she was put on the most sophisticated life support system available, essentially making her immortal, at least until she was finally torn apart.


	6. Ambolyn

The journey to Bior Sess was torturous for Eddie and Headache, who were forced to indulge Fendra-Li's attention seeking tendencies as she flipped through a fashion magazine and announced which clothes she thought would look good on her. Whenever either of them began to nod off from boredom she would pinch them hard on the back of the neck with her sharp freshly manicured fingernails. Gurf, on the other hand, managed to remain enthusiastic throughout the entire ordeal, eagerly giving feedback at her slightest invitation.

As she thumbed through the glossy pages of the magazine she stopped suddenly, an article having caught her eye. It was in the gossip section – an article featuring photographs of her favorite celebrity and idol, Ambolyn, The Dark Mistress of Malnaudria. "Oh my Heptoc!" she shouted, brimming with excitement, "It's Ambolyn! And look at what she's wearing! It's gorgeous." She flashed the picture around and elicited unenthusiastic responses from Eddie and Headache.

"Oh come on," she prodded, not satisfied with the response "you have to admit she's wearing the most beautiful jacket ever. Don't you think, you guys? Huh?"

Feeling sufficiently awkward Eddie decided to appease her "Um, yeah, it's great."

"See? I told you!" she squealed, and clapped her hands with glee. "What do you say, Gurfie, can I have one just like it?"

Gurf eyed her cautiously, "Well, we'll be at Bior Sess in a little while. You should look around and see everything they have before you decide what you want."

"Oh Gurfie, you're so supportive! I can't wait!" she said as she jumped up and down and then planted a big kiss on his lips.

Finally she calmed down and went back to staring in awe at the photos of her idol. "Ambolyn's so amazing, don't you think?" she asked Eddie, having been pleased with his response to her last comment.

Eddie eyed the photograph of the tall thin woman with smooth, clear skin that was literally the color of alabaster, a sharp contrast from her long flowing jet black hair and black almond-shaped eyes. Her perfectly symmetrical face with its sharp features and high cheek bones wore a stern and haughty expression laced with disdain for whomever was taking the picture. The woman obviously did not much care for being dogged by the media. She was dressed entirely in white, except for her jacket, which was a deep burgundy. In every photo she was surrounded by a small entourage composed of one man and four women, all exactly the same height, but several inches shorter than Ambolyn. Each woman was very attractive, but wore a black jumpsuit with a turtleneck collar that extended halfway up the face, so that it covered the mouth entirely as well as most of the nose. The man had spiky black hair and skin the same color as Ambolyn's. He was very slender, though had an overall menacing look to him that seemed to say "you don't want to fuck with me or you won't live to regret it". He was also dressed entirely in black, with pants and a turtleneck, but unlike those the women wore, its collar ended below his chin. Hanging from his belt was a long chain that hung almost down to his knee. It appeared to be that of a chain wallet, which Eddie found amusing considering that he used to wear one in his youth. In every picture the man stood directly beside Ambolyn and always stared straight into the camera, each time with the same sinister expression.

"Who is she, anyway?" Eddie had to ask.

"She's just another cosmic celebrity worshipped by the masses for no real reason" stated Headache.

"That's not true" argued Fendra-Li, "She's not just another celebrity. She's the most amazing woman that ever lived."

"Wow," Eddie was surprised by the bold statement coming from Fendra-Li, mostly because he had never heard her speak well of anyone, "What'd she do that's so amazing?"

Fendra-Li opened her mouth to speak, then paused for a moment, searching for some concrete example of the woman's achievements, found none, and eventually closed it again.

"See?" asked headache, "You can't think of even one good reason why she should be famous. Don't you find that just a little strange?"

"The only thing I find strange is your face" Fendra-Li shot back, "Ambolyn's an icon. You can't open a newspaper or turn on a telefeed without hearing some mention of her."

"But it's all phony, don't you see? She hasn't actually done anything to merit such broad public attention. She isn't an actress, a politician, an entrepreneur, a scientist, a philanthropist, or even a great thinker. There is no reason why she should be a household name, yet somehow she is. Don't you find that just a little suspicious?"

"Oh Headache," said Fendra-Li dismissively, "we're all sick of your silly conspiracy theories. Can't you just accept things for how they are and be normal for a change? You'll enjoy life a lot more if you would just go with the flow."

Headache turned to Eddie, "Can you believe she's involved in politics?" he asked, waving two tentacles in Fendra-Li's direction, "The universe is in serious trouble."

Eddie squirmed in his seat, trying to find some sort of neutral ground so as to avoid saying anything that would get him on anyone's bad side more than he already was. "So why do you think she's famous?" he decided to ask Headache, earning him a scowl from a very sulky Fendra-Li.

"I don't really have a theory," Headache admitted, "All I know is that she appeared publicly for the first time a decade ago when her ship, a small rickety old thing, barely space-worthy, appeared near the edge of the galaxy at a relatively devoid area of space called the Telseeds Region. Almost immediately and for no apparent reason she attracted the attention of the media and the fascination of just about every species in the galaxy. It's as if she has an innate magnetism about her."

"Where did she come from?" Eddie asked.

"She claims to be from a place called Malnaudria, though no one knows where or what Malnaudria is. When asked about it she has always managed to dodge the question somehow. She obviously has something to hide. And don't you think the title 'Dark Mistress' has a certain sinister ring to it?"

"Don't talk about her that way!" protested Fendra-Li, "You make her sound like a criminal. And besides, you're wrong. It wasn't a decade ago that she first graced this galaxy with her presence; it was nine and a half years ago."

Headache rolled his eyes again. "Let's not split tentacles. You're only trying to change the subject. She appeared almost a decade ago and never went back to whatever evil pit she crawled out of, almost as though she were running from something, and on top of that she won't reveal any details about her past. Why all the secrecy if she has nothing shady to hide? It all seems pretty sinister to me."

"Unlike you I refuse to jump to those kinds of conclusions about her," Fendra-Li said defensively, "She carries herself like nobility, and from the moment she first appeared it was apparent that she had more class than anyone in this galaxy."

"How can you say that? When she arrived in that worn-down old rust bucket she was dirty and wearing rags, and so was that bodyguard of hers and that sick old nursemaid that came with them," headache pointed out.

Fendra-Li turned to Eddie, who was trying to stay out of the argument, but at the same time was fascinated by the story as both conflicting sides of it unfolded. "First of all, Flayden is not her bodyguard, he's her right-hand man. And secondly, she wasn't wearing rags. Her clothes were a little worn from her long journey, but she'd traveled a long way, so no one can fault her on that."

Eddie, excited by the fact that the two of them seemed to be trying to win him over to their side, asked "So, is Flayden the guy in the picture?" and pointed to the spiky-haired man beside Ambolyn in the magazine.

Headache and Fendra-Li both nodded.

"Then what happened to the nursemaid? Is she still around?" Eddie asked.

A long chirp sounded from the control room, and suddenly Gurf appeared in the doorway. "We're approaching Bior Sess," he announced in a soft, but audible tone.

Eddie and Headache took no notice of him, but Fendra-Li leapt out of her seat. "What was that beeping?" she asked excitedly.

"It's the navatron system," answered Headache tiredly, not even bothering to look up, then added quietly to Eddie "Skidge, she's been working aboard this ship for three years; you'd think she'd know that sound by now."

The half-Gelorian bolted out of the room and onto the flight deck, leaving Gurf just enough time to move aside before she would have collided with him. Moments later Eddie heard her squeal with glee. She pranced back into the room and started skipping around the two very annoyed male life forms. "We're almost there!" she announced, "We're minutes away from the Bior Sess asteroid! You have to come see this!" Then she tugged Eddie's arm and skipped back onto the flight deck, towing him behind her. Headache shook his head and let out a sigh of resignation, then followed as she dragged the poor Earthman against his will.

As they approached the Bior Sess asteroid they all were able to get a magnificent view of the gargantuan structure perched atop the asteroid's highest peak. The gleaming metallic boutique was the only structure built on the enormous space-faring rock mass. The remainder of its surface was covered by treacherous rocky crags and valleys or large craters, which had been flattened and transformed into landing platforms for visiting ships. A small ragtag group of ships orbited the asteroid looking very out of place among such decadence. One ship from the unlikely fleet moved to intercept the Earth Envoy vessel as it approached.

Fendra-Li gripped her boyfriend's arm with her slender, yet strong fingers until her knuckles went white. "What the Skidge is that ship doing?" she demanded.

"I don't know, darling" he answered calmly, not seeming to notice her fingers digging into his flesh.

A button began to flash on the control panel and high-pitched chirp issued forth. Gurf responded by pressing the button, and a screen on the panel suddenly came to life, showing the face of an orange-skinned creature with five eyes. "This is the Earth Envoy. How can we help you?" greeted Gurf.

"Let me talk to one of your superiors" demanded the orange-skinned man.

Gurf politely stood up and moved out of the way to allow the others access to the communicator screen.

Fendra-Li shoved Headache out of the way as he began to move toward the controls, but kept her hand on Gurf's arm, her grip growing tighter all the time. "I'll handle this" she hissed. "What business do you have with us?" she demanded of the five-eyed creature on the screen.

"I represent the Glarch Conservation Society and I implore you to join us in the boycott of this establishment. Bior Sess has supported the hunting of Glarch to near-extinction, all for the sake of so-called high-end fashion. The planet of Hyuin was once home to over four and a half million Glarch, and now commercial hunting of this majestic creature has-"

"We're not interested in your propaganda" Fendra-Li interrupted him, "so just leave us alone. Mind your own business and we'll mind ours."

"Please listen," the man on the screen continued, "The unchecked killing of Glarch has caused a serious prob-"

"I've heard enough," snapped Fendra-Li.

"I find your lack of cooperation very disturbing," said the man in a heavy tone, "I wish you would listen to what I have to say, but because you insist on turning your back to the truth I must leave you with these simple words: Be wary the hides of Glarch. Grave misfortune will befall those who do not heed this simple warning." The screen flickered off as Fendra-Li pressed the button beneath it.

"Well, that solves that problem" she said with a smile and then turned to Gurf: "Land us on that asteroid. I'm in a shopping mood." Her hand finally detached from his arm, leaving four dark blue lines where her fingers had been.

"Was that man threatening us?" Eddie asked Headache as he watched the conservationist's ship return to the small fleet near the asteroid.

"No, I believe he was just warning us" Headache answered cryptically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked as the butterflies in his stomach awoke once again.


	7. Be Wary

Glarch are a peaceful grazing animal native to the planet Hyuin. They traveled the rolling hills of the planet's lush countryside in enormous herds, each consisting of as many as ten thousand animals each. The herds would migrate seasonally, creating a thundering sound that could be heard for miles as they wended their way across sprawling fields. The planet's only native people were nomadic and lived in small tribes of no more than five hundred individuals. The tribes subsisted for many millennia, living off the land and hunting the Glarch as a food source. The nomads never threatened the Glarch population, however, because the herds were large enough that their numbers were always able to withstand the small amount of hunting that was done. The nomads also had a profound respect for the balance of nature and kept moving on to new temporary settlements every so often, so as to avoid causing any permanent damage to any ecosystem. As such they lived in perfect harmony with the planet.

Then one day visitors from another world landed on Hyuin. At first the nomads did not know what to think of the great ships the visitors arrived in, or the technology that allowed them to arrive from the sky, and then fly away again, so high that they vanished from sight. The visitors were kindly and told the natives stories of wonders they could not even dream of: homes in the sky, devices that allowed a person to vanish and then reappear in another location, devices that spontaneously created fire. They even showed them the magic of electricity, which could power many amazing devices, including ones that generated light. The natives immediately trusted the visitors because they felt they had been sent from some wonderful magical plane of existence.

As time passed the visitors began to exploit the land, building permanent structures, felling healthy trees, and carelessly hunting the planet's native species, including Glarch, and using just the hide, while discarding the rest of the body, rather than using the entire carcass. Worst of all, they often hunted for sport, without even using the carcasses for any productive purpose. Eventually the natives spoke out against the visitors and explained their beliefs that natural order must be maintained, but the visitors only laughed and told the natives to leave and not cause trouble for them, else they would feel their wrath.

Some brave natives led by a young shaman named Tisvitca acted out against the visitors, realizing that if they simply left for other parts of the world the visitors would continue to expand and exploit the planet, eventually reaching all corners of the world, and in time there would be no escape. Tisvitca was young, but wise, and studied the ways of the visitors, taking note of some of their weaknesses. He noticed that their vehicles became immobile if the tires were lacerated, and also that they depended on wires to bring the electricity from the generators to their structures. Tisvitca organized efforts to thwart the visitors, sometimes throwing rocks at the structures they built, slashing the tires of their vehicles, cutting the electric lines, or even placing charms outside the doors of their homes so that they became sick. The visitors reacted with swift brutality and made examples of a few of the natives, even though they did not know which ones had actually committed the acts of resistance. Those who were punished were tied up and subjected to public torture or humiliation or forced to do hard labor. Some were even punished by death.

Tisvitca grew more and more frustrated as he watched the visitors destroy the beauty of the planet and carelessly strip away its natural resources with disturbing efficiency. As time went on he organized nonviolent protests against the visitors, but it was too late to do much good. There was very little he and his people could do to protect the planet, and the numbers of Glarch had already dropped to alarmingly low levels.

Unbeknownst to Tisvitca the Bior Sess corporation had set up a Glarch hunting operation on the planet because it was found that Glarch hide was and ideal material for crafting expensive luxury items such as shoes, handbags, and jackets. Bior Sess eventually laid claim to the planet because the natives did not believe in ownership, and therefore the planet was up for grabs. The natives were then given one year to vacate, or else suffer imprisonment by Galactic authorities. An interplanetary conservationist group, after hearing of the plight of the Hyuinians, worked to give them rights to live on a habitable moon of Hyuin. The natives were pleased that they now had a safe place to live, but hated that their home planet was still being destroyed by the visitors. With the help of interplanetary charities the Hyuinians formed their own organization, the Glarch Conservation Society, and began organizing a boycott of Bior Sess.

Unfortunately the boycott was not very successful because the amount of press it generated caused more people to want Bior Sess merchandise because it was so controversial. Also, as the number of Glarch declined steadily and the demand increased rapidly, the price of Glarch hide increased exponentially because it was now a rare commodity. The Glarch Conservation Society lobbied unsuccessfully to outlaw the killing of Glarch. The courts ruled that it would be irresponsible to pass such a law because Glarch hide is the planet's chief export. In fact its value is so exorbitantly high that the revenue from its exportation accounts for 99 of the planet's income and 85 of the planet's population has an occupation that is in some way related to Glarch breeding, grooming, feeding, hunting, skinning, etc. Therefore if Glarch killing was outlawed the planet's entire economic infrastructure would collapse immediately.

Frustrated that every measure he had taken to save the beloved Glarch had failed, Tisvitca decided to take drastic measures. He gathered every shaman from every surviving tribe and organized a powerful ritual that lasted ten days. Together, under Tisvitca's guidance they placed a curse on all who wear the hides of Glarch.

No one other than the tribesmen knows any specific details regarding what the curse is said to do. In fact many remain skeptical that the curse was successful at all, as no glaring examples of its effectiveness have ever been documented. But whenever he is questioned about it, the corners of Tisvitca's mouth raise in almost imperceptible smirk and he says in a voice laced with a quiet confidence "Justice will be served."

Headache shared this story with Eddie just before the ship landed on the Bior Sess asteroid. It didn't help the feeling of nausea that had already found a home in his stomach, but he knew that he wouldn't be wearing Glarch hide anyway, so what did he have to worry about? The hatch opened with a hiss as the cabin began to fill with the air from the asteroid's artificial atmosphere. "The air here is so fresh and almost sweet" Eddie observed.

"It's the finest in designer airs" commented Fendra-Li, the level of pomp in her voice rising to critical levels.

"It's a waste of money and resources, is what it is" replied Headache.

"Can't you just lighten up and enjoy the finer things in life?" asked Fendra-Li.

"I do enjoy the finer things in life" said Headache in his own defense, "but what I don't enjoy is blatant over-the-top wastefulness. Do you realize that instead of pumping perfumed air into the parking lot of a commercial asteroid the resources could instead be used to filter the pollutants out of the atmospheres of impoverished planets that can't afford to have clean air? Don't you think that would be a more constructive use of the über-expensive air reparticulators on this asteroid?"

Fendra-Li didn't seem to hear Headache's monologue as she skipped toward the magnificent gleaming boutique, Gurf by her side keeping in perfect syncopation with her erratic pace. "The way he follows her around reminds me of a Tarkalian puppy dog" observed Headache.

As Fendra-Li and Gurf began the approach toward the magnificent visage of the boutique they saw a large crowd of reporters and other members of the press mobbing the great crystal doors. Two enormous security guards towered over the people, using their massive limbs, the thickness of tree trunks, to fend off the crowd of relentless reporters, and continuously reminding them that recording devices are not allowed in the boutique. But the voices of the security guards were barely audible above the commotion caused by the overzealous crowd.

Fendra-Li's pace quickened to a gallop as she saw the crowd that had amassed outside the building. _Someone important must be in there _she thought to herself as she mercilessly dragged her boyfriend along with her. Gurf, who seemed completely uninterested in everything that was going on, was nonetheless very patient and kept up with her pace perfectly.

Suddenly something caught Fendra-Li's eye: it was a glint of light shining off a metallic surface in her periphery. She almost didn't notice it, but she always remained vigilant when at a high-profile like Bior Sess because she didn't want to miss anything. The glimmer of light came from a vessel in the boutique's private parking lot beside the building. It was intentionally kept hidden behind a rocky ridge, but certain parts of the ridge were not quite tall enough, and from a very few places along the path leading to the front doors of the boutique one could steal a glance at the ships parked there. Though her view was almost entirely obstructed by the strategically placed boulders atop the ridge, Fendra-Li spotted one ship, a silver spaceship of a very particular design, and knew immediately to whom it belonged. At that point her base animal instincts kicked into high gear, seizing control of all of her body's autonomic and voluntary functions. Adrenaline ripped through her, her heart pounded so hard that even Gurf could hear it despite their quickened footfalls, and she broke into a full run. The long stone stretch to the boutique's front doors fell behind her fast as she closed the distance in record time.

By the time she reached the crowd she was no longer a Human-Gelorian hybrid, but had somehow transformed into a feral creature with only one purpose: getting into the boutique at once and nothing could stand in her way. As she reached the crowd she did not slow down one iota, but dug her nails into the back of the first reporter she encountered, and used him as leverage to sling herself into the air, catapulting herself onto the back of another reporter deeper into the crowd, and in turn using that poor creature as leverage to propel herself deeper and deeper through the mass of people as her boyfriend stood watching, horrified.

Mere seconds passed before she made her way to the front of the crowd, leaving a trail of carnage in her wake. Without missing a beat the security guards each extended one tree trunk-like arm and grasped her thin, stringy arms with thick hands the size of palm fronds. She struggled in vain for a moment, then realized that she was hanging several feet in the air and could do nothing, so let out a loud wail that caused most of the members of the press to drop their cameras and cover their ears immediately.

When all the air had left her lungs and she realized that the security guards were still unfazed she decided to try a different tactic. "I am a very good client and I demand that you let me in," she stated harshly, "I will not be denied entrance, or you will have my lawyers to answer to."

One of the security guards looked down at her, his expression calm and collected, as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had transpired. "You may enter, so long as you behave." And then the two security guards placed her gently on the ground before them.

Fendra-Li was irked. "Behave!" she bellowed, "You're telling me to behave! How dare you? I am the daughter of an ambassador. I can have you fired in a moment's notice. You had better treat me with a little more respect. Now I demand an apology."

The two security guards gave one another a smirk, which only infuriated her further, and then continued staring down the crowd, which had calmed down considerably by this time. Fendra-Li, realizing that she had lost her battle against the guards, decided to remove herself from the scene as promptly as possible, and entered through the grand doors of the boutique, leaving the other three members of her party to find their own way in.


End file.
